Finishing The Job
by Darkest Ember
Summary: The job could only be finished once Charles Keefe died. But Jackson wanted more than just that. For him, the job won't be done until he makes Lisa pay.


_**Finishing The Job **_

_**By: Darkest Ember  
><strong>_

_**Chapter 1: Watching You, I'm Falling to Pieces **_

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><p><em><strong>Summary:<strong>_ Jackson Rippner may have appeared to be close to death as he lied on the floor of the Reisert household, but he was far from it. He allowed the police to take him away. He allowed the hospital to treat his wounds. And then he escaped, virtually vanishing off the face of the planet. He was a _professional_ and had been in much worse situations. But there was one problem. The job wasn't finished, and his employers wouldn't be very happy with that. So, he would need to plan a new hit. And though it surely wouldn't take place at the Lux Atlantic again, he would make sure that he'd involve Lisa Reisert somehow. After all, the job could only be finished once Charles Keefe was dead and Lisa paid for her offenses. Jackson could hardly wait.

**_Disclaimer: _**This was written purely for entertainment purposes. I do not own the plot or characters in Red Eye, this is just a creative interpretation of an alternative ending to the film.

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><p>Cynthia scrambled to the front desk as she saw a man approach. His somewhat disgruntled face seemed to fly right past Cynthia's attention as she greeted him with a cheery smile. "Welcome to the Lux Atlantic!"<p>

"I'm here to check in. Reservations are under the name Jackson."

Cynthia nodded as she typed the name into the computer, though finding no matching results. "I'm sorry, sir…I don't seem to see your reservation."

"That's impossible. I made this reservation months ago. I want to speak to the manager. _Now_."

"Sure thing," she replied in a small voice as she scurried down the hall to Lisa's office. She knocked lightly before entering.

Lisa glanced up from her paperwork and smiled at Cynthia. "Hey, what's up?"

"Another obnoxious, whiny guest. He claims he made reservations months ago, but his name isn't showing up in the system."

"I'll handle this one," Lisa said with a laugh. The main reason why she kept working at this same hotel, even months after that horrible incident, was because she _enjoyed_ helping people. This job allowed her to do so. Plus, she refused to let anything or anyone put her life on hold.

She followed Cynthia back out to the front desk and greeted the man courteously, beginning to introduce herself, but was interrupted.

"You're Lisa Reisert! I remember hearing about you on the news months ago," he exclaimed.

Lisa smiled, though felt somewhat uncomfortable. "Yep, that's me. So, what can I do for you, mister…?"

"Jackson," he supplied. "Paul Jackson."

Lisa felt her heartbeat slowly drift back down to its normal pace as she struggled to maintain her composure. Just the sound of that name sent shivers down her spine. But, that was part of her past now, and she needed to remember that. She took a breath and typed the name in the computer to find that his name was indeed not present.

"Are you sure you made reservations for today? You're name doesn't seem to be in the system."

"I have my receipt right here." He handed her a piece of paper that said he was supposed to be spending the next three days in suite 3050.

Lisa double-checked to see if that room was available before she manually typed his name in. "Sorry for the misunderstanding, sir. Here are your room keys for 3050."

He grabbed the keys and then paused. "You know, this is my first time staying here. Would you mind showing me where the room is?" Her hesitation was beyond evident. "_Please_?"

Cynthia gave a subtle shrug in response to Lisa's silent questioning. Eventually, she decided to help the guest. "Follow me." She led him over to the elevators as Cynthia helped the next couple checking in.

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><p>The <em>real<em> Jackson – Jackson Rippner – was very much alive and much closer than Lisa would have preferred. His plan was already in motion. It was simple, yet still seemed to be causing complications in his mind. Another agent, the supposed "Paul Jackson" was assigned to infiltrate the hotel to keep an eye on Lisa, mostly to determine if any of her habits had changed in Jackson's absence.

He would've gladly agreed to follow her once again, but the higher ups believed it to be risky. After all, how could Lisa ever forget his face? One quick sighting could ruin the entire plan.

So, while Paul got to spend time in a luxury hotel with Lisa, Jackson had to monitor Charles Keefe's movements instead. There wasn't much to it. Jackson had studied the patterns of so many politicians before Keefe. He knew how the security system worked. He knew Keefe's schedules – both on regular and political occasions. He knew it all like the back of his hand.

But Lisa was still a mystery to him. He had been so sure that she'd present no challenge whatsoever once he requested her to make the call on the red eye flight. He had her right where he wanted her, laying down the charm and seduction before revealing the reasoning behind his actions.

Even when she put up a struggle, trying to outwit him in any way possible while being thousands of feet above ground, he still made her do her part of the job. He never expected her to fight back as hard as she did. He'd never been so close to death, just for a job like this, where he wasn't even the one doing the assassinating.

One thing was for sure. She'd never expect him to come after her again. She had no idea the kinds of things he had in store for her.

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><p>Lisa and Paul stepped silently into the elevator. Politely, Lisa reached forward and pressed the number 30. Paul seemed mesmerized with the long list of buttons. He quickly noticed the "out of use" sticker over the number 40.<p>

"I'm assuming the 40th floor is where it took place?" he asked casually.

Lisa eyed him tentatively, wishing he hadn't brought it up. "Yep. There's still plenty of repairs to be done before that floor can be available for guests..."

"Is it...completely off limits? I'm kind of interested to see how it's coming along."

"Sorry, hotel employees are hardly granted access, let alone guests," she murmured, wishing he'd take a hint. Lisa didn't exactly want to reminisce.

"Well, your room is right down here," she said, somewhat sternly, as the elevator doors opened. Thankfully, he dropped the subject and followed her a few doors down until they reached his door. He thanked her for her service, even tried to offer her a tip, but she refused to accept it. Something about this man bothered her, though part of her wondered if it was just his surname that made him seem…off.

She needed to get back to her office before she started to over-think the situation. She slumped down into her chair, grabbing one of the stacks of papers to examine, but nearly jumped once her cell phone started vibrating in her pocket.

"Hi, Dad," she answered.

"Lisa, is everything okay? You sound out of breath."

"Oh, no I'm fine. I just had to show one of the guests to his room on the fourth floor."

"Ah, okay. Well, you're still free to come over for dinner tonight, right?"

Lisa glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. She'd have to start really delving into this paperwork if she wanted to be done on time. "Of course! I'll be over around 7."

"Whatever time works for you, sweetie. Just don't stress yourself out."

"Okay, Dad," she smiled. "I'll see you tonight."

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><p>The date, location, and time of the second attempted Keefe assassination had been determined after Jackson had attained the politician's public appearance schedule. If the people paying for the hit wanted to send a flashy, public message, this would surely do it.<p>

Since his job was done early for the day, Jackson tried to occupy himself with a hunting knife. He admired its sleek, smooth surface as he sharpened the bottom side of the blade.

His mind kept wandering to Lisa. The kill was going to happen in two days. He wasn't supposed to do anything with Lisa until just before the kill.

But how could he be expected to wait that long? Sure, she'd be involved in the assignment…but he wanted more from her, _deserved_ more from her. Extracting a little vengeance before the job couldn't possibly hurt. Though he was sure his boss wouldn't approve of the brash decision, Jackson was sure he'd convince him to let it go. He could be a master of manipulation when he so desired to be.

He ran the blade along his finger, feeling the slight sting of the sharpened metal. He placed the knife in its sheath and dialed the Lux Atlantic.

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><p>Cynthia answered the phone slowly, feeling worn out from a day of dealing with snobby guests and having to stand on heels for hours on end. "Hello, Lux Atlantic."<p>

"Hi, I'd like to speak to Lisa Reisert, please?"

Cynthia was taken aback by the unexpectedly courteous tone. "Sure, I'll put you through to her office." She couldn't help but wonder why such a pleasant sounding man would want to speak to the manager of a hotel…weren't those phone calls usually reserved for complaints?

Lisa answered the phone without a second thought. "Hello?" she asked a second time, upon hearing nothing but silence in response.

"Leese," he breathed. "It's been a while."

Lisa dropped the phone receiver onto the desk as she fell back into her chair. _That voice_. But how could it be him? Hadn't she watched him die in her own house? Unsure of how to respond, she settled for simply hanging up the receiver, praying he didn't call back. Obviously, he knew where she worked. And that meant she needed to get out of there, _now_.

She gathered her purse, cell phone, and keys and scrambled over to Cynthia, spitting some bullshit excuse as to why she so frantically needed to leave, and then went down the back corridor leading to the exit and employee parking. Her hurried pace was difficult to maintain in heels, especially since there were bumpy areas of faulty carpet in this typically unused hallway.

Just shy of the door, Lisa fell sprawling forward, spilling her keys and cell phone on the floor. She groaned, reaching for the objects and slowly rising back to her feet. As she turned toward the door, a shrill gasp escaped her lips as a knife came flying beside her, slicing right into the wall.

Terror racked her body, keeping her frozen in place as her eyes dared to dart to the right, following along the arm attached to the knife. When she registered the face through teary eyes, all she could whisper was, _"No_."

But there was no denying it. Jackson Rippner was standing right there, pinning her between himself and the wall.

And he had a knife.

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><p><strong>AN:** I haven't ever really written a fanfic about a movie before, so this should be interesting. I have always loved this movie and really wished that it had ended differently, so that's what this story is going to be all about - what would happen if Jackson didn't die. It may or may not lead to romance between him and Lisa, who knows ;)

Based on what I'm planning right now, I'd say this will be about 10-15 chapters long.

Comments would be AMAZING and would help me update sooner...so just leave a quick little comment if you can


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